Wicked Whispers
by strange-summer-melancholy
Summary: What about the North? A conversation among two women that was intended to go so much differently, and all that follows.


"What about the North?"

Lady Stark's words rang out like a bell between them, seeming to reviberate off the walls of the small hall in and out of Daenery's ears again and again and again..

She had half a mind to remove her hand from the fiery redheads. Instead, she studied the girls face more closely with a gentle intensity behind her violet eyes.

_Without me there would be no North. _

"Sansa.. I don't think you fully understand what I intended when coming to the Westeros." Daenerys starts, pausing for a moment to gauge the Lady's reaction.

"I am not here to conquer the Seven Kingdoms and rule them with an iron fist - with an intensity many believe only my family is capable to possess," she looked into the Starks eyes imploringly, "No, I came here to make this world a better place, for all of those in it - and that includes the North."

Sansa's face was unchanging, if Daenerys words had moved her in the slightest she left no indication across her carefully schooled features. "The North does not wish for any sort of support from a Southern ruler no matter their _intent_."

_You don't trust me. _

"My family has been fighting for our home since I was a child - we've been slaughtered, lost, abused, all in _our_ attempts to regain _our_ homeland. We finally have gotten it back, and you expect us to surrender it to you so willingly?"

There is a pause, blue clashes with lilac indignantly.

"Perhaps this is something you just simply cannot understand."

Daenerys pulls back immediately, careful to not let any emotion leak through her facade.

"I don't think anyone understands that more than I."

For the first time since the start of this conversation the two broke eye contact. Sansa sighed, pulling her hands into their lap. Daenery's gaze was still focused on the girl, but was now directed to the Stark pin across her left breast, the direwolf sigil rested proudly in contrast with the dark dresses.

"Perhaps this is a conversation best had following the war with the dead." Daenery's began reluctantly.

"I understand that your family has been through so much in order to bring peace and security back to your home, and I respect it. I'm not asking you to sacrifice everything that they fought for."

_Let me help you. _

The Dragon Queen rose at those parting words, sparing Sansa a sullen nod before turning to exit, her walk was interrupted by the Lords of the Vale. A new ally has arrived to greet them both.

Seeing Theon embrace Sansa so openly made something lurch inside Daenerys. Not that she had expected any welcoming of the sort from the Greyjoy. No, she just can't remember the last time anyone touched her so casually.

Family.

Lady Stark had brought that word up several times throughout their recent conversation; at one point Daenerys was certain she was using it to hurt her, and loathes to admit that it had its intended effect.

_I've once known some semblance of a family. _

Viserys was not a brother to her in the way that Jon seemed to be with his siblings. There was no softness to Viserys. He had looked out for her since before she could even remember anything - but he had also used and abused her in ways worse than many of the men that have been apart of her life since. He was family by blood, but not much by heart.

But what did it matter - Viserys was gone.

Everyone was gone, she was the last of the Targaryens. The end of one of the greatest dynasties Westeros had ever seen. Perhaps Lady Stark was right. Perhaps she would never fully understand.

_If I look back, I am lost. _

After contemplating for sometime Daenerys wander up to the war room. People should be arriving soon to finalize the battle plans, she supposed it never hurt to be a bit early, and it seemed she was not the only one with those notions.

Ser Jamie Lannister stood as soon as she walked into the room. He appeared almost surprised to see her, and it only took her a moment's glance at him to realize how painfully alone she was. Alone with Cersei's brother, a man who only hours ago she debated executing. He too, seemed to note her reluctance almost immediately and quickly gestured to a chair slightly further from his own.

"Your Grace." He started, not wanting to alarm the Dragon Queen, or give her any further reason to see to his imminent demise - the dead were already attending to that.

"Ser Jamie, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here. Your expertise in battle tactics will no doubt serve useful in the wars to come." She started, eyeing him warily from across the way. "I only ask that you remain in the forefront of the room, _Kingslayer._" The words tasted more and more bitter as the came out, she couldn't help herself. Rage consumed her when she looked at him, rage for a father that she did not know and a life that was taken from her before she was even brought into this world.

"Of course." He started again, averting his eyes as if almost ashamed. After a moment he looked back up at her with mild defiance. "I am sorry your grace. I am sorry that you are upset over your fathers death. I am sorry that I am part of the reason that you were never able to meet him, but I am _not_ sorry for taking the Mad King's life." He looked up at her fully then, lifting his chin before proceeding "Your father-"

"Enough."

She was tired of people reminding her of how awful her father was; as if it was something she could ever forget. Feeling the need to consistently defend herself because of the actions of a man she did not even know grew more and more tiresome with each attempt.

"I understand what my father was. I do not wish to recount his misgivings with the likes of you no less." She paused finally sparing him another glance. "Though I suppose you are among the few still remaining who truly knows all the atrocities that he committed."

Jamie only nodded in reply, careful not to offend her.

"I was among your father's Kingsguard since I was sixteen. I knew your family for a long time before the rebellion." He paused, attempted to gauge her reaction to his words. He was met with a calculating amethyst stare. She did not speak, so he took that as a sign that she was waiting for him to continue.

"I am truly sorry for what happened. For Rhaegar and the children, for the eradicating of your family, and for what happened to you, your grace…"

Her stare was unnerving, but there seemed a gentleness to it that was not there before. She finally looked away, sparing a small glance at the floor as she pondered his words.

"I suppose it doesn't matter much now what you're sorry for."

Perhaps she was right. Nothing mattered much now did it?

_The dead come walking. _

"You say you were a part of the Kingsguard since you were sixteen?"

Another nod.

"Did you know my mother, Rhaella?"

He nodded again. Blue eyes clashing with violet ones from halfway across the room. Her gaze was almost startling in its intensity yet it pulled on his heartstrings in the saddest of ways.

"What… was she like?"

He is frozen for a moment, so frozen his likeness could be compared to the Others. "She.." he starts slowly, trying to find the best words possible to give this girl a glimpse into the life of a mother she had never known. "Was a very kind and gentle women." His throat dries as he finishes the word.

There is so much he wants to be able to tell her, so much he has to offer her in this regard. But he is frozen, still stuck on the realization that the Dragon Queen standing in front of him, with her 8,000 Unsullied and 4,000 Dotharki coupled with her will of steel, is really just a young girl looking to reclaim a home she never had the chance to know.

_Oh Cersei if you could see me now. _

The illusion shatters as Tyrion walks in the room, followed closely by Jon Snow and his Stark siblings.

Daenerys clears her throat tearing her gaze away from Jamie almost immediately, she is careful to take her place at the head of the painted table addressing all of the Lords and Ladies as they walk through the door. Tyrion looks between the two, and Jamie can see him taking note on something before turning to take his place to the right of the Queen.

Strategies begin to be discussed almost immediately, and most of the room quickly gets lost in the conversation. Her stare lingers in his mind for hours.

Author's Note: Posting this very randomly and will most likely be taking it down for edits later but I am curious to see how this community is faring. I haven't submitted anything in years. Regardless, if I do continue with this works do not expect this to follow a typical storyline. All the chapters will be congruent in a sense but they will not necessarily follow one another perfectly. Rather, these are just snapshots of things that I hoped would be including in the final season and interactions between characters that I have been waiting for since the show aired all those many years ago.


End file.
